


snakes and other terrifying things

by OnyxSphynx



Series: newmann one-shots [37]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, newt. pls. you can't just LEAVE HERMANN WITH YOUR SNAKE WITHOUT TELLING HIM, the threat of being nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 02:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18306005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphynx/pseuds/OnyxSphynx
Summary: Newt asks Hermann to check on his pet. He fails to mention whatkindof pet she is.





	snakes and other terrifying things

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: "How about the feed your snake prompt?"  
> [prompt: I need you to pet sit my pet for a while and I forgot to mention it’s a snake, the mice are in the freezer. Thanks, bye]

“ _Please_?” Newt begs him, voice thin and reedy. The connection is poor, despite the phone display showing three bars; Hermann should probably be used to that at this point, but.  
  
He sighs. He can practically see the pleading expression on the other’s face, visualise the slight tremble of his lip, the widening of his eyes. Damn it. He caves. “Fine,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can check in on… _Frankenstein_ every other day while you’re gone.”

The change in tone is instantaneous. “Thanks, man, really,” Newt says, the relief palpable, and Hermann imagines the slump of his shoulders, the tenseness leaving his muscles as he breathes a sigh. “I’ll pay you back, dude, I swear—you’re a life-saver, Herms—” there’s a scuffle, before the connection re-establishes itself. “ _Crap_ ,” Newt hisses. “Look, dude, I gotta go—”

The line cuts off, leaving Hermann with a question dying on his lips. With a sigh, he turns the phone off and returns to his notes. According to Newt, Frankenstein only needs to be fed once every few days, and he’ll be back before then. Hermann wonders what sort of pet the other has that it only needs to be fed every few days and can be kept in the Shatterdome.

Probably a plant of some sort; he seems the type.

It’s not a plant, as Hermann discovers with a nasty shock two days later.

It’s a four-foot-long ball-python.

“Newton!” Hermann barks into the phone, edging away from the snake flicking its tongue out to scent the air, and lets out a tiny yelp when it slithers marginally closer. “You—you! You didn’t tell me it was a snake!”

“She,” Newt corrects placidly. “Her name’s Frankenstein. She’s a sweetie, Herms, I swear—the mice are in the freezer, in case she gets hungry, but only give her one, okay, dude?”

Hermann sputters, trying to draw together a coherent sentence. “Newton—you—I can’t believe—you—” The snake slithers closer, and Hermann drops the phone in fright. There’s a staticky laugh, and Hermann glares at the phone, snatching it up off of the ground. “We’ll be having words about this,” he promises, and ends the call.

Frankenstein slithers closer, and, backed against the wall, Hermann gives into his fate.

* * *

Newt practically sprints to Hermann’s quarters when he gets back. Thousands of possibilities run through his mind—what if Hermann died of fear? Or what is he scared Frankenstein to death? Or—

He slams the door open, a shout on his lips, but it dies instantly at the scene before him.

Hermann’s sitting in his chair, a book in hand, Frankenstein’s black and green scales glinting slightly under the light of the lamp, curled over Hermann’s shoulders.

“…Hermann?” Newt asks, tentatively, and Hermann closes the book and turns to face him.

“Newton,” he greets.

Newt lets out a nervous laugh. “So—so I see you guys are getting along just fine. I, uh, I can just take her and—”

“Sit,” Hermann says, an unsettling smile on his face, and Newt suddenly understands what it feels like to be a bug under the scrutinising lense of a microscope.

He gulps and sinks into the other chair, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him. “So,” Hermann says pleasantly, “what, exactly, where you thinking when you decided to run off to a kaiju auction halfway across the world and leave me to care for your pet without forewarning that she was a snake?”

“Um,” Newt pauses and clears his throat, growing increasingly more twitchy under the weight of Hermann’s gaze. “I—I don’t—sorry,” he stammers. “I mean, um. Sorry. For not telling you? It—”

“Slipped your mind?” Hermann fills in, still frighteningly calm and pleasant.

The room feels stifling, and, finally, Newt blurts, “I’m sorry, okay, can—can you just, like, yell at me or something? Just—just stop being so…”

The pleasant expression drops from Hermann’s face, all of a sudden, and Newt breathes a sigh of relief. “Apology accepted,” Hermann says, “but if a similar incident occurs, I shall be nice for a week.”

Newt shudders. “Gotcha,” he says weakly. Hermann smiles smugly.


End file.
